The Only One
by FlamingSkies
Summary: As Branson leaves Downton Abbey, he encounters Mrs Hughes. WARNING: Spoilers for S2 x08. I would have loved to have seen an exchange between these two in the show.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Disgrace._

_Shame._

Mr Carson's words were still ringing in Branson's ears as he walked down the corridor away from the servants hall.

So that was it then. He was reviled both downstairs and up. He would not be welcomed in this house again, either by those he had served or those he had worked alongside. It was over.

There was a momentary pang of sadness. Downton Abbey had been his home for six years and he had, for the most part, been happy here. He had made some very good friends and he would miss them. He just wished he wasn't leaving under such a cloud. But then he thought about the reason why he was going, and he smiled. He was marrying Lady Sybil Crawley. The frog had won his princess.

He opened the door to the courtyard, and stepped out of the house for the last time. He would go to his cottage now, collect the two battered suitcases that contained all his worldly goods – books, mostly – and make his way to the Grantham Arms. And he would wait for her, his Sybil, his _fiancée_, until she was ready to leave with him. He was smiling still as he turned to pull the door shut on his old life.

"Mr Branson! Please wait!"

Heels clicked on the hall flagstones and then Mrs Hughes appeared in the doorway. "You're going then?" she said. The expression she wore was unfathomable.

"Yes Mrs Hughes. Mr Carson's told you?"

"He has."

She studied him for a long moment. He'd never been on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing from Mrs Hughes but he knew she was more than capable of dispensing one. He braced himself for her words. Sticks and stones, he told himself. Sticks and stones.

"Do you remember lad, that day I told you, many years ago, to be careful, that you would end up with no job?"

"I do, Mrs Hughes. But I…"

She held out a hand to silence him. "Was that when it started, all those years ago when war was declared?"

"Yes," he said. He had not expected this line of questioning. "For me at least. Lady Sybil took a little while longer to convince."

"Well, my lad, that was a very long time ago. You have a great deal of patience."

"That I do," he replied. He was puzzled; she did not appear to be rebuking him. Where was this conversation going?

"You must care for Lady Sybil very much," Mrs Hughes said, her voice softening.

He wasn't imagining it; the frosty look he thought he'd seen in her eyes had gone. He allowed himself to relax a little.

"Oh, that I certainly do," he said.

"And she must care very much for you, to give up all of this." She glanced around her at the grand building that was her home as much as it was Sybil's.

"She does," said Branson, and with those words came the little stab of happiness that still surprised him. Sybil loved him. She loved him enough to give up her family and Downton Abbey for him.

"Well, I'll not lie and pretend that your news hasn't caused ructions here. You'll know that there are those who will never accept it."

"Mr Carson," said Branson.

"Aye, Mr Carson," echoed Mrs Hughes.

"And you, Mrs Hughes?" He might as well be bold, he had nothing to lose now. "Do you accept it?"

She paused. "It's not the done thing, a servant and a member of a titled family marrying. Especially not when the servant is the husband and having to provide for a wife used to a very different way of life. If I'm to be honest, I think Lady Sybil is in for a shock."

He nodded and looked down briefly, there was not a lot he could say to that.

"But if you really do love each other…"

His head shot up. "Oh, we do, Mrs Hughes, we do."

Her lips twitched into what was almost a smile. "I've often wondered, over the years, about the pair of you. After I caught you holding hands at that garden party… well, I thought I had better keep an eye on you both. And I must say, there were a few occasions when I suspected there might be something untoward happening."

"There were?"

She nodded. "When you wrote her a letter apologising for your behaviour in anticipation of that silly business with General Strutt, for starters. That seemed an unusual thing to do, to write to Lady Sybil of all people."

"You never said anything."

"No. You were in enough trouble as it was."

"Thank you. For your silence, I mean."

"And she seemed to spend rather a lot of time going down to the garage to order the motor when she could have just got one of the servants to do it. Don't think that went unnoticed, my lad."

In fact he had wondered if anyone had paid any attention to the frequency with which Lady Sybil would personally order the motor. Now he knew.

"And then there were the many occasions when you sat in that servants' hall looking all moony-faced… Young men only ever look that way when they're thinking about young women, and yet you never mentioned a sweetheart."

Moony-faced. He smiled at that. "Nothing much gets past you, does it Mrs Hughes?"

"No, not a lot. But while I did think that maybe you still carried a torch for Lady Sybil, I never really saw anything to give me too much cause for concern. And I certainly never expected that it would come to this… to marriage." She shook her head. "It's quite a turn up for the books. You kept your secret well, the pair of you."

"We tried," he said. "But it hasn't been easy."

"Keeping feelings of love to yourself never is," she said, her voice tinged with a wistfulness that made him wonder what she knew of hiding emotions. "What is it they say? The course of true love never runs smoothly?"

"It hasn't for us. But we've got there in the end and at least we can be open now about how we feel about each other."

"Yes, that's something," she said, and again he caught a hint of melancholy in her tone.

"I just wish I didn't have to leave Downton this way, with everyone against me."

"Oh, I think you'll find that not everyone is against you and even some of those who have seemed… shall we say displeased… haven't taken against you as such, it's just that you've done something that goes against conventional tradition and they are shocked by it."

"You know that I didn't set out to seduce her, don't you?" he asked, remembering Lord Grantham's accusation from the previous night. "I'm not trying to strike a blow against the aristocracy – it's not some kind of subversive ploy. I've never wanted to bring scandal on the family, I just want… I want to be with Lady Sybil, for the rest of my days. And I will do my very best to look after her and make her happy."

"I'm sure you will, lad. I can now see the love you have for her as plain as the nose on your face."

Mrs Hughes regarded him for a moment, her head tilted to one side. "Lady Sybil's gain is our loss. You will be missed at Downton, Mr Branson. You are very much valued; please do not leave here thinking you are not. I know I told you all those years ago that you'd end up with no job, and I am sorry that has happened. But I'm glad you've not got a broken heart as well."

Her kind words left him with a large lump in his throat and it took him a few seconds to speak. "Thank you for those sentiments Mrs Hughes. And thank you for… well, everything over the years. It has been a pleasure knowing you. I wish you all the best."

Their exchange was over now and he made to leave.

"Just one more thing, my lad."

"Yes?"

"I wanted to say congratulations, Mr Branson, on your engagement." She was smiling properly now, a genuine smile brimming with warmth. "I hope you will both be very happy."

To his embarrassment he felt tears pricking his eyes. He hadn't cried since he was a boy; he wouldn't cry now in front of her. But her words had set free some of the emotions he'd had to keep locked away for so very long. While everyone else acted as if his and Sybil's love was the worst possible thing in the world, Mrs Hughes alone had recognised that their feelings for each other were a good thing, a beautiful thing worthy of being celebrated. She was the only person to congratulate them, the only one to wish them well. In that moment his respect for the housekeeper swelled into great fondness and he had to bite the inside of his lip to hold back the tears.

He couldn't speak, he just nodded at her and she bobbed her head back in response. He turned then, and he walked away across the cobbles. After a moment he heard the door to Downton Abbey click shut behind him. He kept walking, towards his cottage to collect his things, and he did not look back.


End file.
